That Old Black Magic
by Tempestt Londyn
Summary: He is not a simple man but she's got a way about her. - Written for Lady Eleanor Boleyn's "Why" challenge. Challenge 85 on the Bellatrix Lestrange: The Dark Lord's Most Faithful forum.


**_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series is not my original work; thus, I profit from nothing. The following is strictly for entertainment purposes._**

* * *

Why this castle had not yet been restricted to these people, he did not know.

Why the corridors mocked him, deathly silent on tonight of all nights, he did not know (and he'd have _killed _for a roaming student to divert his attention).

But what he did know was this, this … _utter madness _was not supposed to happen. Retrieving a handful of ingredients from his storeroom was a task of the basest level and one, he knew full well, not requiring carnal interaction with evil incarnate.

Nary a _Silencio _was performed yet here he stood struggling to maintain upright in a puddle of slippery lime green robes, back pressed against the door, exchanging grunts with the predator straddling him.

This was no doing of Severus' own. He held no fond memories of Andromeda so it was no joy to explore her so intimately. But this was … _old magic_, the kind that puppeteered one's body into defying the logic of the mind. It was old magic persuasive enough snatch the visitor into this area, and pin her to the ladder of which he'd only just descended.

"Why are you here, Andromeda?"

"Now, Severus, is that any way to speak to an old friend?"

He had known, regrettably, that his zeroing in played right into her hands. A normal witch would have buckled in fear, his hands on either side of the ladder, so beside herself at being trapped in such a precarious situation with such a terrifying figure. But Andromeda was the exception and had been for as long as he'd known her, an expert at using rare, classic beauty and family ties for intimidation and bribery purposes.

"The new one looks weak."

"I beg your pardon?"

And his bewilderment she had found laughable, dark eyes twinkling and dimples as prominent as the smile that stretched from ear to ear.

"Is that not what you said to my daughter yesterday, when she escorted the Potter boy? Severus pursed his lips as she inserted the nail into his proverbial coffin. "'I was interested to see your new Patronus … I think you were better off with the old one … the new one looks weak.'"

The diction she'd employed in repeating his insults infuriated him. But he would not be scolded like a Muggle child caught with one hand in the cookie jar; for Salazar's sake, he was _Potion's master _and _would not _- _could not - _be weak prey.

"If _that,_" he'd begun in what he hoped was a condescending fashion, "is why you've come all the way from St. Mungo's, I daresay you've wasted time. I am surprised, Andromeda, that you are so taken aback by your daughter's infatuation with a dark creature. It is not so unusual, given she probably takes after her mother." Severus leaned closer, honing in on his predator. "And we all know what _great_ contributions _you _made to the Black legacy."

That had quieted her and for a moment he was able to relish the shock which burst upon her face. Then, the first recovery. "Mmm, but we are so alike, Severus. If not for Potter, how many more stalking hours would you have dedicated to Lily?"

Her name had been the spell breaker, shining a light into his soul - the second recovery (or so he thought). He grabbed the witch before him and swung her about mightily until deciding it well worth his time to slam her into the shelves. Neither her flying protests nor his orders of _'Don't … you … ever' _were audible; the ripping of silk robes was all that he heard and that felt.

Severus' blood had frozen, equally abhorred by what he had done but Andromeda just smiled and finished what the job.

"What's the matter, Severus?" Her tongue was a pendulum, swinging back and forth on her bottom lip. He stared down his hooked nose at the lacy undergarments and succumbed to the encouragement.

Pity he couldn't be the perfect gentleman, wizard enough to toss her out on the arse. It was not that he lacked character … it was that he lacked _strength_. Inhibitions were thrown to the wind, albeit involuntarily.

And that's how he'd ended up in this little predicament, purple lipstick staining sallow skin underneath his ears, each passing second of thrusts and bites sending him tumbling further and further into relapse.

At long last, Andromeda clutched him tightly, riding the high. Her nails withdrew from his black robes and she unwrapped her legs from his torso before cavalierly mending her attire, unfazed as if this were a daily chore, and dressing with her back turned. His wonder of whether she regretted it buried the lust of snapping her neck in two … although it was _appetizing_, the thought of one fewer Black alive to agitate.

Andromeda faced him, arms folded, the grave expression all that surpassed the redness of her cheeks. "Remus Lupin may not teach at this school any longer but you still provide him with the Wolfsbane Potion."

An accusatory statement. Might she desire an apology?

"You are incorrect on both counts."

"Oh, don't pretend," she huffed, stiletto tips rapping against the hard floor. "It's so gauche. Dumbledore would not have the two of you in the Order were you still at odds."

A flash of a blinding white, a glistening Head Girl badge, a pair of hands opposite one another, pressed in the chests of a young boy with a scarred face and his greasy-haired peer.

"I request that you, unbeknownst to the old fart, cease this 'good deed.' I cannot suffer a werewolf in the family gladly. I am lenient with my daughter on many things but this I cannot allow – think of what people will say!"

The latter confessions gave the impression that she was more so talking to herself but the desperation laced in each word was oddly arousing. And although there was no love lost between him and the uncoordinated witch, her mother's cruelty rivaled that of the most seasoned Death Eaters.

"_If _I agree, what am I to be given in return?"

"Me."

The declaration was obvious, automatic and tinged with bitter _you-know-bloody-what _spices. What a superficial fool, troubled with appearances in the midst of a war. Still, to let the Lupin lose his mind in the moonlight and be rewarded with one of the most sought after witches in wizarding Britain ….

It was an offer Severus most certainly _would refuse_.

But Andromeda couldn't know… at least, not _so early_ in the game.

Even the most repugnant relationships had their perks.

_**Fin.**_


End file.
